


No Guarantee

by attaccabottoni



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attaccabottoni/pseuds/attaccabottoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Javert speaks slowly, either conscious of not upsetting the Mayor who must be under stress from the recent assassination attempt, or out of politeness in dealing with someone whom he considers to be dim-witted. “Whatever you deem is necessary, sir, we are at your disposal.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Guarantee

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at answering my own question of “Why don’t people write more angst-free modern AU fic for the fun of it?” The title comes from a quote by Simone De Beauvoir: _“Self-knowledge is no guarantee of happiness, but it is on the side of happiness and can supply the courage to fight for it.”_

“Bloy attends poetry readings every Tuesday evenings when he can, and consumes romance novels like a lovesick addict. Girard spends all his free time volunteering at the animal shelter, and tries to convince everyone he meets to adopt because he has no regular hours to spend on actually having pets at home. Aside from those ridiculous habits, they are officers with good records, and on duty they are focused, alert and think quickly on their feet. They will be shadowing you in shifts wherever you go except the privies and your bedroom.”

Valjean listens to this briefing spoken with the unstoppable rhythm of a military march, not daring to interrupt the police inspector who had just entered his office without any greeting or preamble. The neatly uniformed man only pauses for a breath before resuming his recitation.

“I have an underage niece who was arrested for illegal gambling last year. She is now under lock and key in a nunnery in the South, and will not be a liability in the near future. I give you my guarantee that I have no habits that might compromise my duties. I will be going ahead of every room and venue to check if they are clear before you enter them. Otherwise, you are free to go about your usual business, Monsieur Valjean.”

Valjean clears his throat and stands. “Thank you. And you are Inspector Javert, I presume?”

Javert nods with the same respectful impassiveness as though it is his default expression, and Valjean thinks the Inspector is really not into shaking hands. He tries to make his voice light. “I think you have a good idea there about that nunnery. Do you recommend that I send my daughter there for the time being?”

Javert blinks. “It is a secure institution.”

“Maybe it could keep her safe, and away from that fluttery suitor of hers.” He grins weakly. “Will that make your protection work easier?”

Javert speaks slowly, either conscious of not upsetting the Mayor who must be under stress from the recent assassination attempt, or out of politeness in dealing with someone whom he considers to be dim-witted. “Whatever you deem is necessary, sir, we are at your disposal.”

“Right.” Valjean rubs his palms together. “I’ll have my assistant bring you my schedule for the week.”

“Thank you, sir.” Javert apparently takes it as dismissal, because he about-faces and strides purposefully towards the door. Before he could exit, he pauses with his hand on the handle, and half-turns back to Valjean. “Forgive my presumption, but have we met before?”

Valjean laughs nervously, which sounds more like a wheeze. “Why do you ask?”

Javert frowns, which only ratchets up the tension in Valjean's spine. “I have good memory for faces, and yours seem very familiar outside of your official photos and press coverage.”

If Valjean gives in to the urge to cover his face, he will certainly seem more suspicious. He reminds himself that he has a good spiritual director in Bishop (“Call me Charlie”) Myriel, and has survived through telling Cosette she is adopted. There is no reason for him to lie and lose his integrity just to make things easy for himself.

He blows a loud breath, and looks squarely into Javert’s eyes, despite feeling the blush creeping up his neck. “Do you remember a wild college party back in April 1992?”

Javert’s eyes widen.

Valjean gives him a small but genuine smile. “I know you are an honest man, Inspector, but I prefer my daughter hearing the story from me first, so if you could keep it a secret for the meantime, I would really be grateful.”

Javert looks young when he’s stunned, and the sight of it brings up the memory that is not helping Valjean with keeping the red from blooming on his face. “What are you saying, sir?”

“I forgot to tell you then, but that was my first kiss, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inevitably:
> 
>   
>    
> 


End file.
